It Was A Prank!
by SailorCheesy
Summary: "I..I... I'm gong to dissapear!" Italy cries, crumpling to the floor. "I told them I would go! Romano has Spain and I... I didn't want Spain to loose him!" One-shot.


_Italy stands in a small feild, paintbrush in hand, staring at the wonderful landscape around him, just waiting to be painted! He strokes smooth lines acorss the canvas, smiling as he does so. His apron and dress flutter around his knees when the wind blows, making the grass around him shift to the right side. Someone steps out from the bushes and appears behind the young Italy, his face straight, but his heart thimping wildly as he watches him paint. Italy turns around to face the young boy, who wears a black cap and cape that completley contrast his bright blue eyes and red face. _

_"Oh... Holy Rome. It's just you." Italy says, a small smile creeping up on his face. _

_"Italy, I came here to ask you something." The small boy blushes some more. _

_"Holy Rome, is something wrong?" Italy asks, reaching out, he spreads his hand over Holy Rome's face. "You're very warm..."_

_"Italy! That's not what I came here for! Please, listen." _

_The small Italy sets down his paintbrush and nods to Holy Rome, plopping down on the ground. _

_"Will you become one with me, please?"_

_Italy thinks a second before shaking his head._

_"What? Why?" Holy Rome asks, his patience thinning. _

_"Grandpa Rome fell because he was too big... I don't want that to happen to you, Holy Rome. I like you just the way you are!" _

The much older Italy lays in a feild, staring into space.

"Holy Rome... Where are you?" He mumbles, twirling his finger around a daisy he picked from the ground beside him. He thinks back. "Maybe if I had become one with Holy Rome.. he could have won the war, and then he'd still be here now..." The man wonders aloud, his eyes welling up with tears at the thought that he could have somehow prevented the eventual destruction of Holy Roman Empire. He closes his eyes and silently cries, wishing Holy Rome would return to him one day. Someone wipes the tears away from Italy's face.

"Italia. You'll catch a cold if you lay out here in the snow like this." A stern but soft voice says.

Italy opens his eyes. "Huh? But Germany, you're being silly! It's spring out here..." He says, looking around. He notices tiny snowflakes drifting from the heavens, and a white blanket covers the ground all around him. "But it was just like the springs Holy Rome and I used to stay out here..." He mumbles, while Germany picks him up gently in his arms. The spring-time scene dissipates from Italy's mind as he looks around, realizing he was hallucinating.

"You've been out in the cold too long. You're freezing. Let's go inside now." Germany gingerly leans over and kisses Italy's forehead, a small blush spreading across his cheeks.

"I will cherish my time with you, always, Germany..." Italy mumbles, falling asleep in Germany's safe arms.

A gentle rapping reaches the blonde man's ears as he cooks some Wurst on the stove, humming a tune his brother used to sing to him when he was very, very young. The knocking becomes louder. Germany sighs.

"Ja, I'll be right there!" He calls, pulling off the apron and setting the stove to a low simmer.

"Germany, this is very important!" A farmiliar voice calls.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!"

"Germany! Please! I don't have much time!"

Germany runs to the door and swings it open to find Italy standing there, a bunch of flowers in his hand and tears in his amber eyes.

"Come in, Italy." Germany holds the door open as Italy steps inside.

"I-I have something to tell you..."

"I'm listening. Vat is it?"

"Well... They're getting rid of one of us..."

"Vat?"

"Well... They already have... I volunteered..."

"For vat? Vat did you volunteer for, Italia!"

"I..I... I'm gong to dissapear!" Italy cries, crumpling to the floor. "I told them I would go! Romano has Spain and I... I didn't want Spain to loose him!"

"What about me? What will I do without you? Please tell me this is a joke!" Tears well up in the German's eyes.

"Haha, okay!" Italy wipes the tears from his eyes and stands up. "It was a prank!" He smiles. Germany looks at him blankly, and then slaps him in the face.

"YOU TELL ME ZIS VAS A JOKE?" He screams. Italy wouldn't be surprised if smoke came out fo his ears.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! B-big brother France told me it would be a good prank and that we could both laugh at it but now I see you aren't laughing!" Italy cowers to the floor, afriad of being hit again.

Germany fumes with rage. "I'm going to kill that bastard." He huffs, marching out the door.


End file.
